


Turn This Around

by sandswinchester



Series: Song Inspired Winchester Stories [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Bears The Mark of Cain, Ed Sheeran - Freeform, F/M, Mark of Cain, give me love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 06:06:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3717973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandswinchester/pseuds/sandswinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off "Give Me Love" by Ed Sheeran. Sequel to "Command Me To Be Well."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn This Around

**_Read the prequel[COMMAND ME TO BE WELL](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3710884)!  
_ **

_Give me love like her,_

_‘Cause lately I’ve been waking up alone…_

 

The mind was a curious thing. It never seemed to rest. It never seemed to find peace, though peace was all it sought day and night. He was always thinking it seemed, and his mind unknowingly or not, travelled to thoughts of her far too easily.

 

The loneliness didn’t help either. Sure, he had Sam by his side but his brother could not fill the hole left in her wake. Not even close.

 

_Paint splattered teardrops on my shirt,_

_Told you I’d let them go…_

He swirled the amber liquid in its glass. The only way he could find some sort of oblivion was when he drowned himself in the drowsy haze of alcohol. Lately even that had failed. Even the whiskey reminded him of her eyes, or the way the sun shone off of her hair. _Let me be Y/N,_ he thought miserably, or maybe he mumbled it to his drunk for when he turned he saw that Sam was looking at him as if he was going insane. Maybe he was.

 

_And that I’ll fight in my corner, maybe tonight I’ll call ya…_

_After my blood turns into alcohol…_

He needed to see her face again. He needed to hear her voice again; the musical notes of her laughter or the way she simply sang to herself when she thought he wasn’t listening. He needed _her_ with every fiber of his being. He needed her.

 

The phone was already in his hand. Her name was already on the screen. All it would take was one simple press of his thumb and he could… _Get it together, Dean,_ he admonished himself, determined to strengthen his resolve.

 

He’d left for a reason, and he could fall victim to his emotions. Not now. He couldn’t afford to be weak, and with that resolution firmly in mind, he let the alcohol burn down his throat. Maybe it would burn off these painful memories of her along with it. Maybe not.

 

_Give me love like never before…_

_‘Cause lately I’ve been craving more…_

The more he tried to push her away, the harder it seemed to be. Simple memories washed over him, intensifying his hunger for her even more. The alcohol wasn’t helping anymore. It just fuelled it on, this craving that won’t let him be. The feel of her hand against his face, not caring if his forever existent stubble prickled her. The way her fingertips teasingly traced across his arm, whenever she was trying to sneakily grab his attention. The softness of her lips as they whispered loving promises against his. He closed his eyes in defeat.

 

 _Must this be so hard?_ But he knew that it had to be. If it didn’t hurt this deep, how would he ever know it was love that was destroying him?

 

_And it’s been a while but I still feel the same._

_Maybe I should let you go…_

As desperately as he wanted her back, nothing in his life has changed. The Mark remained, burning his arm, burning into his soul. He was still the dangerous ticking time bomb waiting to go off on a rampant killing spree without word or warning. He was still Dean Winchester, cursed and burdened with all his sins; past, present and future.

 

Nothing has changed. All the reasons why he’d left, still remained the same. All the reasons why she should the furthest away from him, were just as they used to be. _I have no right!_ What right to happiness did he have? Would his happiness, his solace ever be worth risking her life?

 

If he loved her, he’d let her go. That was how things should be.

 

_And you know I’ll fight my corner,_

_And that tonight I’ll call ya…_

But how things should be was not how they always were.

 

The number was dialed and already ringing before he could convince himself to abort this horrible idea. This was a mistake. This was not how things were supposed to be. He was supposed to let her go, not call her after four months of his vehement vow to stay away.

 

There was no time to back down. “Dean?” he voice washed over him, musical and curious, conveying a world of emotions, packed into just his name.

 

He sighed. Just hearing her voice was enough. A sense of peace washed over him, the first of its kind since the Mark had claimed his life. “I miss you, babe.”

 

The other end was silent. He looked at the screen to check if she had hung up on him. If she had, he would have completely deserved it, he knew. After what he did, running away in the wake of dawn without even a word of goodbye, he would have _completely_ deserved it.

 

She was still there though. He wondered how it could be. “Are you drunk?” she asked him after a while. There was anger mingled in with the concern. What did it mean? Does it mean she still cared? He hoped it did, even as his conscious berated him, _You have no right!_

His heart was heavy. She was still too far, and hearing just her voice was not enough. Nothing could ever be enough when it concerned her. He wanted it all. _You have no right,_ the part of his mind still conscious enough to think reminded him. Warned him. “Does it matter?” he chuckled, despite the burn in his eyes.

 

“It matters to me,” she told him, and he could feel her sadness even through the phone. “You shouldn’t have called.”

 

“I shouldn’t have,” he agreed, hoping with all his heart that she’d disagree. _Tell me you love me,_ one part within him screamed. _You have no right,_ the other warned, like a mantra that just wouldn’t shut up.

 

“But I’m glad you did,” she whispered, and if he hadn’t been pressing the phone to his ear he probably would have missed it. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” The worry resonated in her words, and it warmed his heart. _She still cares._

 

 _Only as much as it hurts to not be with you,_ he thought to himself. _And it hurts every day, Y/N. Every freaking day_. Except, of course, he would never dare say it. He had his reasons. “I love you,” he blurted, unable to help himself. It was as if the words escaped him of their own volition.

 

“You’re drunk, Dean,” she sighed. There she goes again, with that sadness seeping through. “I’m hanging up.” He wanted to scream, ask her – no, _beg_ her – not to. “I love you too,” she mumbled, in the softest voice, before the line went dead. Did she really say it, or was it naught but a figment of his imagination, his wishful thinking?

 

_No, I just wanna hold ya…_

He stared at the phone, thoughts rushing through his head. Why was he even here, in this godforsaken bar, drowning in alcohol? All he wanted was to drown in her. She was his favorite poison. _You’re the poison,_ _Dean,_ the voice taunted him. The memory of her face was making it easier to ignore the voice. She always had that effect on him. She drowned out the evil, even if that evil rested deep within him.

 

_Give a little time to me or burn this out…_

 

The keys were in his hand and he was on his feet.

 

“Where are you going?” Sam asked, already knowing the answer, already feeling the relief. He knew the peace Dean sought was and always has been within that one person he’d left behind. Sam had always known that even before his brother had come to that fateful realization. It was evident for the world to see.

 

“I have to see Y/N,” Dean answered with a parting glance.

 

The drive seemed to take longer than it should. Time seemed to be moving slower than it usually did. The road that led to her seemed to lead too far.

 

He drove on. He didn’t stop till he reached  her driveway. He didn’t stop till his fist was pounding against her door, insistent, persistent. And when she finally opened the door, he didn’t stop till his lips found hers at last in a passionate kiss.

 

_We’ll play hide and seek to turn this around…_

“What the hell, Dean?” she gasped, pulling away. “It’s been four months! You can’t just walk in here and pretend everything is fine!”

 

He walked in, and closed the front door behind him, never taking his eyes off hers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered so humbly that it just about broke her heart. “All I wanted was you safe, but I can’t do this, Y/N. I can’t do this without you.” His eyes were glassy with tears unshed.

 

Her cheeks were already wet. “Dean,” she pleaded, asking for what she didn’t know.

 

_All I want is the taste that your lips allow…_

Dean knew what she wordless sought for all he wanted in that moment was the exact same thing. He kissed her deep and long, holding her against him as if he would never let her go. She felt like _home_ to him. She felt like everything he had ever searched for.

 

_My, my, my, my, oh..._

Fingers tangled in hair, limbs entwined, they fell softly on her living room sofa. She undressed him slowly, but Dean’s patience was waning. He needed her _close._ He just _needed_ , desperately than ever before. He pulled of his shirt, and hers, finally feeling flesh to flesh, her heat against his. It warmed him inside out.

 

_Love me…_

He burrowed his face in her neck, breathing her in. She smelled of everything wonderful he remembered her to be – sweet, intoxicating, and with hint of lemon whisked into the mix. It went straight to his head, driving him insane with want. His lips caught hers in another feverish kiss. The taste of her would never be enough.

 

_Love me…_

“Dean…” she begged, urging him to hurry. She needed him too, just as ferociously. She wanted him with just as abandon and desperation.

 

He obliged, finally undressing them both completely. He was torn. He wanted to admire her in all her glory, taking his own sweet time to love her tenderly as she deserved to be loved. But at the same time, he needed to lose himself in her like there was no tomorrow.

 

_Love me…_

The need won over want, and he found himself buried in her, seeking completion, urging her to seek it with him. He loved her as if it was the first time. He loved her as if it was the last. He loved her till he felt like he couldn’t love her no more but he could. All the love he had, was hers to take.

 

And he said her name over and over, like a prayer.

 

She screamed his.

 

He lost himself in her, and it was in her that he found himself once more. “I love you,” he told her in the aftermath, staring deep into her eyes. “Forever an always.” The truth was evident in his solemn emerald eyes.

 

“No more running?” she asked, touching his cheek.

 

“No more running,” he promised, leaning into her touch.

 

_Oh, give me love…_

His eyes searched hers. He knew he shouldn’t need the words after all this time, but he couldn’t help it. He _needed_ to hear her say it. He implored, wordlessly.

 

As her heart slowed to an even rhythm, coming into perfect sync with his, she smiled tenderly up at him. “I love you, Dean,” she whispered, and somewhere within him, he found himself sighing in elation. “Forever and always.”

 

Limbs entwined, and fingers laced together, they fell asleep listening to the beats of their hearts. He laid her fears deep down to rest, and his nightmares plagued him no more for she kept them at bay.

 

_Oh, give me love…_

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
